


Raijinshuu, Assemble!

by Lucinda_MH_Cheshir



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gen, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucinda_MH_Cheshir/pseuds/Lucinda_MH_Cheshir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everyone here has a painful past, but it is because we accept these and band together that we can move on." How did the members of the Raijinshuu come to join Fairy Tail? This is a look at what could have happened to Bickslow, Evergreen, and Freed before they found FT. Read, enjoy, and comment! Thank you very much! (And if you understand the reference, well, good for you Cap.)<br/>You may have seen this story on ff.n</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Knight

Part One: Bickslow, The Knight  
December, X784  
I awake in the middle of the night with my heart pounding from a vivid nightmare, a nightmare that made me relive the terrible events that happened fifteen years ago in my small and now nonexistent hometown of Suirena. Of the storm that killed my parents, and the flood that took my little sister away.  
Fifteen years ago, I hadn’t known much about magic, but being born with the ability to see into a person’s soul gave me some clue into the nature of the people around me. Suirena was a town with few mages, and so they all looked to mages such as myself with barely-concealed suspicion. While it was still standing, it had been at the edge of a treacherous swamp that all the village children, including me, had been warned never to venture into. A swamp that, according to rumours, was home to a wicked water spirit. I didn’t believe it, though.  
I’d never been particularly friendly with any of the other children in Suirena. It wasn’t that I’d never tried to make friends: it was just that the others found it far too unnerving to deal with whenever I accidentally said something about souls. Which, believe me, when everyone’s soul is superimposed over their own face, it’s kind of hard not to say something about it once in awhile, especially when a soul turns a weird colour because of people’s ugly thoughts. And thus, the seven-year-old me spent most of his time in solitude. Not that I cared much. I mean, I was a pretty quiet kid to begin with, always kept to myself, and stuck to my talents: woodcarving and acrobatics. Even though I was only seven, I was still almost as weird as I am today, and I spent a lot of my time a little closer than my parents probably wanted to the edge of the swamp, using my pocketknife to carve crazy-looking faces into the trees, as well as hanging upside-down from the mossy branches. I got pretty good at both of these, too, though I did earn my fair share of cuts, scrapes, and bruises from falling from the trees.  
Anyway, besides being on my own a lot, I don’t remember much about those days. The days before the hurricane, I mean. At least, not until my little sister was born.  
I have a vague memory of my mother getting fatter and fatter until eventually she sat me down (on a rainy day, so I couldn’t run outside and avoid her,) and explained to me that I was going to be a big brother.  
“Am I gonna have a little brother?” I remember asking. I thought it was going to be cool, because hey, I was finally going to have someone who might actually hang around with me, if only because we were related.  
My mother smiled. “Or a little sister. We don’t know for sure, Bickslow.”  
And so I didn’t pay any more attention to the possibility of having a younger sibling until suddenly one day I came home in the evening and found my mother and father waiting for me while fawning over something that was swaddled in a soft-looking green blanket.  
“Bickslow, come over here.” my father ordered, so I did as I was told, hoping that they wouldn’t notice all the swamp mud on my shoes.  
“What’s that?” I asked, looking at the bundle my mother was holding. She only smiled and shifted her arms slightly so that I could see the tiny pink face of my new little sister.  
Only, I couldn’t see her face. All I saw was her soul: a small but fiercely burning golden light that was so pure that I hardly knew what to think. Just looking at her, her innocence and... newness... was overwhelming. I was completely in awe of this freshly minted soul, though I think that my parents thought that my awe came from having a new sibling.  
“Her name is Anju.” my mother smiled, taking in my expression, which I like to believe wasn’t too ridiculous.  
All I could do was stare, fascinated, at Anju’s golden soul. It was so unlike the souls of other people: the adults, whose souls were all dark to begin with, but grew darker whenever they looked at me and thought something nasty, or the other children my age, whose souls were lighter than the adults’, but still, whenever a bad thought crossed their minds, they grew darker. No soul I had ever seen was nearly as pure and uncorrupted as Anju’s perfect, shining soul.  
“Son, come over here for a moment.” My father led me into the next room, all but dragging me by my arm.  
“What is it, father?” I asked, reluctant to leave Anju’s perfect soul for even a moment.  
“I know that your life hasn’t been easy, Bickslow. I know how everyone in town treats you, and I know how hard it is for you.” This caught my attention. Previously, neither of my parents had ever even acknowledged that I had any interaction with people other than them. “And I know that it’s only because you have magic in you. Don’t blame them: they just don’t know how to act around mages, so they try to pretend like they don’t exist.”  
“Why are you telling me this now, father?” I asked, confused. He hadn’t ever bothered to explain the intricacies of Suirena society to me ever before, so why now?  
“It’s because there’s a fair chance that Anju has magic within her, as well. Bickslow, you know what that could mean for her. You know that it could mean that she, like you, becomes shunned by her elders and her peers, just like you’ve been, much to your mother’s and my dismay. We’ve tried to understand, but since neither of us has magic, we haven’t been able to help you much, I’m afraid. And for that, I am very, very sorry, Bickslow. But you can understand, can’t you, that we don’t want Anju to go through what you did, don’t you son? You understand that we need you to be there for her, be able to defend her and protect her when we can’t, don’t you?”  
Talk about dropping a bombshell lacrima. What was my father even asking of me? My seven-year-old mind was whirling as fast as it possibly could to try and figure that one out. Protect golden-soulled Anju? What could I possibly do to protect her? And what would I be protecting her from? I distinctly remember thinking that if it was monsters, we’d both be screwed.  
“Will you promise me that, Bickslow?” My father prompted. I looked at him, and looked at his soul. A tarnished coppery colour that, though worn-out looking from its fair share of personal demons, was, at that moment in time, completely in earnest.  
“All right, I promise.” I said.  
And that was about it. My life returned to what passed for normal in Suirena, though I began to spend less time hanging out at the edge of the swamp and more time at home with my mother, helping to take care of golden-soulled Anju.  
Until April, that is.  
I’d heard worried adults talking amongst themselves for awhile about a huge storm that was supposedly headed our way, though, as usual, and being seven years old, I mostly ignored them. All I really knew or cared about was that it stopped them from sending nasty looks in my direction.  
Beyond that, all I really remember from that time was waking up in the middle of the night, smelling smoke, and hearing my father just about shouting in my ear.  
“Bickslow! Get up! Now! Go and get your sister, and get out of the house, quickly! Get to high ground as fast as you can!”  
It was dark, and as I let my father drag me out of bed, I remember hearing some of the loudest thunder I’d ever heard in my life, as well as Anju wailing in the room next to mine.   
“Quickly!” my father repeated, then left without waiting to see if I had come to my senses. As fast as I was able, I hurried to Anju’s room, took her out of her cradle, wrapped her green blanket around her, and put her in the basket woven from reeds that my mother had made long ago to carry me around on her back. I hurried outside into the most violent tempest that I have ever had the misfortune to walk through. More than once, crashing waves that only came up to my shins knocked me flat on my face through sheer force, and I struggled to get to the top of the hill on the outskirts of Suirena with my little sister on my back.  
As I looked back to our house, I saw that despite the wind and the rain and the ridiculous amounts of salt water blowing in from the sea, it was on fire, as were several other village houses farther away from us.  
While I stopped to marvel at this strange sight, a huge wave up to my waist roared in from the sea and pulled me and Anju out into the bay, Anju screaming all the while. I barely knew how to swim, and, in the choppy water, I seemed to be inhaling more water than air as my sister and I were shoved around by the waves.  
I struggled desperately to get back to shore, struggled desperately to hang on tight to Anju’s basket, which had somehow been wrenched off of my back, but unfortunately, I was seven years old. I lacked the strength to deny the sea what it wanted, and after a particularly nasty wave of water smacked me in the face, the handles of the basket slipped from my fingers, and I was pounded back into the shore while the perfect, golden soul of my baby sister floated away on the stormy water in her basket.  
My parents died in the fire that half-destroyed our house, along with many other villagers who died in their own fires or were dragged out to sea like poor Anju, and drowned. I stayed in Suirena for three more days after the storm ended, and saw more dead and empty faces than I care to remember, including those of my own parents, burned and disfigured by the fire before they died. My father’s tarnished coppery soul was gone, and so was my mother’s dull brass one. I cried for about fifteen hours straight after the other surviving villagers dug them out of the smoldering wreckage that was once our house. After that, I decided that it was time to leave Suirena. I couldn’t cope any more with the horrible feeling of guilt that I had allowed my little sister to be cast off at sea, and lost for ever.  
I don’t quite know what it was that drew me to Fairy Tail after about a year of aimless wandering, but I knew that it had something to do with Laxus Dreyar. When I saw him in the Fantasia parade, his soul shone almost as brightly as Anju’s had: uncorrupted with the world’s evil, and overwhelmingly happy and pleased at his role in the parade. He was proud to be a mage, unlike me, who had been ashamed of my talents for almost all of my life. I looked up to Laxus mostly, I think, because he was a mage who was only a year older than I was, and he was overflowing with pride at who he was. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be proud of what I was. I wanted to become powerful enough that, maybe one day, in the slim chance that she hadn’t died, I could find Anju again. And even if I didn’t become powerful enough, I knew that Laxus certainly could. Though it would be years yet before I was sure enough of myself to join the guild, at that instant, Laxus became my hope.


	2. The Fairy Princess

Part Two: Evergreen, The Fairy Princess  
December, X784  
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Evergreen who became a fairy queen.  
Once upon a time, I had a grandmama who loved me, and a father who did not.  
I lie awake in bed, consumed with thoughts of my Grandmama. She had always been the only one who did not look at me as though I was a monster, at least, the only one before the Raijinshuu was formed.  
Even my own father and older siblings thought that I was a monster, though I didn’t know why until I turned fifteen. Until I was ten years old, I’d always been made to wear a blindfold whenever I was around other people, except for my old, blind Grandmama. She was my only friend, the only person who would listen when I spoke and not just ignore me or shout “Shut up!” at me whenever I so much as opened my mouth.  
She’d always tell me fairy stories whenever I asked for them, and I became so fascinated by them that I announced, one day when I was about six years old and the walled garden that was our own was in full bloom, that I wanted more than anything to be a fairy princess.  
I remember Grandmama laughing good-naturedly at that, and telling me, in that shaky old-lady voice of hers, “Evergreen, you shall not be a fairy princess, you shall be a fairy queen, just like Queen Titania!”  
She was always kind like that. Whenever my father or stepmother said something cruel to me, she reprimanded them, reminding them that “Evergreen is a person with a heart and feelings of her own. Or have you forgotten?”   
Grandmama was the only kindness in my life: and without her, I don’t think I would have been given so much as a servant’s room in my father’s manor.  
But the thing that still haunts me, even to this day, happened shortly after Grandmama died. I’d just turned fifteen, and had been wearing glasses for awhile, though I did not know why I had to: my vision was perfectly fine without them.  
I remember visiting her grave in our walled garden every day after she was buried, and just staying there for hours. Remembering. When I spoke, it was directly to her: and it was to tell her fairy stories of my own, ones that I had never gotten the chance to tell her when she was alive.  
I was in the midst of telling her one of my favourite stories, one about a handsome fairy prince who, more than anything, wanted to find his true love, when my father came through the gate, making a huge clatter when he almost tripped over a basket of flowers and gardening tools I’d left lying by the gate.  
“There you are, Evergreen. I thought that I would find you here. Now, stop daydreaming and listen.”  
What was this? My father finally had something to speak to me about? What could it be? I remember foolishly hoping that it could be a real apology for how I’d been treated all of these years.  
“What is it, father?” I addressed him as respectfully as I was able to, making sure to sit primly on the stone bench, carefully arranging my hands so that I appeared as ladylike as possible.  
“I finally have a use for you. You’re getting married. Go and pack your things now, daughter.”  
I was speechless. Horrorstruck. All my life, I had never done anything but try to please my father, and this was how he chose to reward me? By marrying me off without so much as a second thought to the wealthiest man he could find that would take a person like me? I didn’t even know who this man was, for goodness’ sake!  
“Y-you can’t do that!” I protested. Father looked at me sharply.  
“I can and I will. You are now betrothed to Jude Heartfilia, in order to form an alliance with Heartfilia railways that will be quite convenient in the years to come, for all involved.” he said, seeming as unfeeling as a stone.  
Inside, I cringed. I had seen Mr. Heartfilia many times before, as he was a somewhat frequent dinner guest, and, though I was always forbidden from so much as appearing in the dining room, even on days when there were no guests, I had seen him many times. He was more than twice my age, and I was fairly certain that he had a daughter from a previous marriage that was only a few years younger than I was. What sort of marriage would that be? I wanted no less than the strongest fairy prince in the world to sweep me off my feet and carry me off with him, not some horrible old businessman whose only interest in me was because of my father’s stupid fortune!  
“No.” I told father flatly, and his face grew red with anger at my refusal.  
“What?” he asked, his voice deadly. I stood, and looked him in the eye. He winced, though at the time I had absolutely no idea why.  
“You heard what I said, father. I said no. You can’t expect me to do whatever you say, just because you’re my father! I have feelings and hopes and ideals and dreams of my own, and I don’t need you directing me in how I ought to live my life. Especially not after all those years of desperately trying to pretend that I didn’t exist! Grandmama would never allow you to order me around like this!”  
Faster than I could blink, father’s hand flew back and smacked me across the face, knocking my glasses askew.  
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, fix those glasses and go and pack your things.” he snarled.  
My hands shook as I straightened my glasses, but I did not back down. “And that’s another thing, father,” I continued, making sure to put as much sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘father’ as I could muster, “Why do you make me wear these glasses? I don’t need them to see better. And why have you never allowed me to leave the manor grounds or make friends my own age? Why is it that nothing I do can ever please you unless it makes me unhappy? Why do you hate me? Is it just because my mother died giving birth to me? Is that why you can’t stand the sight of me?!”  
Another slap.  
“Shut up, daughter. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“Then TELL me!” I screamed in frustration.  
My father looked at me, his upper lip curling in disgust, as though he was wondering whether or not to actually tell me the source of his hatred.  
“For one thing, your mother did not die giving birth to you. She died three days later, when you killed her.” Father turned away from me, so that I could not see his expression.  
It took me a moment to fully absorb this. Then, very slowly, with calculated calm, I spoke. “How?”  
“When you were three days old, that was the day when you opened your eyes for the first time. You looked your mother in the eyes and she turned to stone. Three hours later, she crumbled to dust. And you wonder why I dislike you?” Father turned to me, and I saw that his face was nothing but pure loathing.  
“But... how could I...?” I was at a loss for words-- I just couldn’t believe what my father was accusing me of.  
“You’ve had evil magic in you from the moment you were born. The only one who didn’t know it was your grandmother. She’s the only reason that I didn’t kill you the second your mother turned to dust, and I am wondering now that if allowing you to live was the wrong decision.”  
I was speechless. Did my father really think that I deserved to be killed? Even if I was the cause of my mother’s death like he said, I was a baby at the time! How could he possibly expect me to have any sort of control of whatever mysterious power I possessed?  
“You owe it to your mother and grandmother to do as I tell you. You should be happy that I had such plans for you as marriage, you little ingrate!” Father shouted. “And lucky that such a success as Jude Heartfilia would continue the agreement even after he learned that you had magic!”  
Magic. That was what I had? That was what had turned my mother to stone when I looked her in the eye for the first time? Was magic the reason that I had to wear a blindfold for the first ten years of my life, and glasses now? Was magic the reason I had no friends?  
“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me that I had magic?”  
“Didn’t you hear me? Your magic is evil. You killed your mother with your magic. You became an instrument of evil, daughter!”  
I looked at him, and finally I realised something: my father did not understand me at all, nor had he ever even tried to. If I wanted my fairy tale to come true, I’d have to make it come true myself. And the first thing I had to do to make this happen was to leave my father, his riches, and everything I had ever known far behind me.  
I looked at my father, my face set with determination. “Magic isn’t evil. Magic gives people strength to do what they might not have the courage to do otherwise. Until about five seconds ago, I would never have had the strength or resolve to leave this horrible place, but now that I know I have magic...” I laughed aloud at the irony of it all. My father had kept me locked up for precisely the reason I was able to leave now. “I can leave you behind, you horrible old man. So yes, I will go and pack my things, but only so that I can go out into the world on my own and decide my own fate. You daren’t tell me I can’t, for fear I’ll turn you to stone!”  
Without waiting for his reply, I marched off to go pack my few belongings and to go and make my fairy tale become my reality.  
After the initial euphoria of being on my own wore off, I began to worry about what I would do in order to feed myself, and things like that. Since I’d had such a lonely childhood, I’d grown up ignorant of what most people even did for a living, let alone what mages did for a living.  
So I went to libraries, I researched magic, particularly any magic that had anything to do with fairies, and I learned how to control the magic that had turned my mother to stone and then dust: my stone eyes.  
I’m not sure how long I wandered before I was drawn to Magnolia. Everything sort of blurred together in an odd sort of haze until I heard about the Hanami Festival, where the cherry blossoms apparently took on a rainbow sheen after dusk. Since Grandmama had always taught me to care for flowers, because they were innocent things of beauty made for nothing else but to bring happiness to people, I vowed to go.  
I found the city’s cherry trees just as a loud, soulful cry went up. Still somewhat skittish of people, because of my blessing and curse, my Stone Eyes, I held back and took in the scene.  
Mages, some younger than me and a couple who looked older than the hills, were laughing, sitting casually on blankets spread out on the grass underneath the cherry trees, whose blossoms were the pinkest I’d ever seen. Or perhaps everything just seemed brighter since my exodus from my father’s house.  
For some reason, my eyes were drawn to a handsome yellow-haired teenager with an odd scar down the right side of his face-- he really couldn’t have been more than three years older than I was,-- who seemed more subdued than the rest of his guildmates, though the two who seemed to be his friends, a boy about my age with long green hair and a boy a bit older, whose face was obscured by a weird knight-like mask, seemed to be having plenty of fun without him.  
“THIS IS FAIRY TAIL!” all of the assembled mages cried again, in perfect unison. Even the subdued teenager grinned and shouted with them, and my heart seemed to skip a beat. Fairy? As in, the fairies that Grandmama told me stories about?  
I knew in an instant that this was the mage guild for me: it didn’t matter what the people were like, though I was sure that I could make friends with the yellow-haired teenager and his two pals, I just knew that the name was a sign from Grandmama, a sign that I could find happiness here.  
It took me awhile, but finally I plucked up the courage to approach the three teenagers, my heart pounding in my chest with my every movement: I was all nerves.  
“Um...” I began nervously, unsure of what to say. Awkwardly, I stuck out my right hand to the yellow-haired teenager. I was sure I was red as a beet, my face was so hot. “I’m Evergreen. I’m... I’m a mage, like you guys.”  
The subdued teenager looked at my outstretched hand for a second before he shook it, smiling politely. “I’m Laxus. You want to join Fairy Tail?”  
If I was as red as a beet before, I got even redder as I nodded. Laxus grinned, which only made him seem more handsome than he had been when he’d been sulking. “These are my friends, Freed and Bickslow.” He nodded to the green-haired boy and the masked boy in turn, and, somewhat less awkwardly, I shook their hands too. “Let’s go talk to the old man, then. I’m sure he’ll let you in. You seem nice.”  
So much blood was rushing through my face, I really thought that it might explode. He’d complimented me! I’d never even gotten a compliment from anyone but Grandmama, let alone from someone as handsome as Laxus! I was sure then, as Laxus took me by the hand and led me towards Master Makarov, who I later learned was his grandfather, that Laxus was my fairy prince.


	3. The Prince

Part Three: Freed, The Prince  
December, X784  
My thoughts tonight are nostalgic. It’s quite odd. Rarely does nostalgia strike a chord with me, though as I sit up, awake and trying to read by the fire, I can’t help but think of my childhood that seems, already, to have been a lifetime ago. I glance over at the mirror above my mantlepiece and smile wryly at my hair that had not always been green.  
Growing up in Crocus, I’d always been quiet. Not like my five older sisters, who, whenever they really got talking, would chatter on like so many songbirds. And whenever they fought, it was like Hell itself had opened a door. Whenever that happened, I’d always just go to my room-- my own only because I was the only boy-- and read. I loved to read, and I’d read just about anything: from classics to school textbooks to my father’s magic books.  
My father, who, like me, was very quiet when compared to the women in our family, and, like me, had vibrant orange hair, taught me at an early age how to write runes. Since Father was a Rune Knight, and a fairly high-ranking one at that, I couldn’t have had a better teacher, even though he was often absent.  
That didn’t matter much, however, since I used whatever he had taught me, and filled in the gaps with his magic books.  
At school, however, I was not as successful in hiding my nose in a book all the time. I was ridiculed for my silence, and for being the only boy who knew how to cook anything more than cold cereal. The latter was a fact that came out when, upon seeing one lunch of carefully prepared fish, I had admitted to making it myself, though admittedly under duress.  
My teachers, too, made much of my silence, worrying about whether or not I was really learning. Countless messages were sent home to my mother, who worried too, and tried and tried to get me to say something at the dinner table, to little effect. Also, disapproving of my fascination with cooking, she tried to keep me out of the kitchen, even though I was more help to her than all of my sisters combined, when mealtimes came around. Finally, when I was about ten years old, she just gave up and let me keep my silence and let me prepare food to my heart’s content.  
I think it was when I was eleven when I got into real trouble for the first time. Though, honestly, I was only trying to protect the rules already set forth by my school.  
It was lunchtime break, and I was eating quietly in my shunned-by-society corner, nose stuck, as per usual, in some book or another, when I was approached by the usual bullies: Gainor Sato and his gang of ignorant morons.  
As was his usual expression, Sato was sneering at me as he regarded my lunch. “Who made that for you today, Justine? Your mom? Or are you really such a girl that you made it yourself?” He grabbed me by my orange hair, which was already a lot longer than any of the other boys’, and pulled it viciously, exactly the way I’d seen two of my older sisters fighting with each other. “I mean it makes sense. You cook like a girl, you act like a girl, and your hair is just like a girl’s!” he laughed unpleasantly. “Heck, even your name is a girl’s name. Justine. Ha, ha, all you’re missing now is a dress!”  
“We should go find one for Justine.” One of Sato’s cronies suggested with an evil grin.  
“It’s against the rules to harass other students,” I pointed out quietly, though none of the idiots seemed to notice. As my words seemed to have no effect, I looked around the vicinity for adults who might come to my aid, but I didn’t see a single one looking our way. I was on my own.  
“Good idea,” Sato laughed cruelly, and started dragging me out of my seat by the hair. “And then we can string his pants up on the flagpole so he’ll have to wear the dress!”  
Sato and his cronies hooted with laughter like so many hyenas at that, and my eyes filled with tears of fear at the imminent humiliation I was about to face. Being teased was one thing, but being made to wear a dress in front of the entire school? That was just going too far.  
Even as Sato dragged me across the commons area, something within me seemed to snap. This was against the school rules. Why was Sato disobeying the rules? They were the absolute law within the school grounds, and yet here were Sato and his lackeys, brushing them aside as though the rules meant nothing.  
I grew even angrier when it occurred to me that this was not the first time that Sato had broken the rules. Almost every day, he’d come and harass me about one thing or another. It was an unending struggle to remain calm when, every day at lunchtime, I had been verbally abused by idiots who probably had never even opened a book in their lives.  
Seething at the rule-breaking, I caught Sato’s right wrist in a vice-like grip and forcefully disentangled his dirty fingers from my hair. “It’s against the rules to harass other students, Sato.” I repeated, a dangerous edge coming into my voice. My right eye, hidden underneath my long bangs, began to throb as it sometimes did when I got too emotional.  
Bravely, Sato tried to sneer, though I could tell that my sudden change in attitude frightened him greatly. “Yeah? And what are you going to do about it, Justine? Girls like you can’t fight.”  
I tightened my grip on his wrist until he gasped with pain. Then I let go abruptly, turning and flicking my right hand dismissively at him. “You’re such a damn pain, Sato. Leave me alone, why don’t you?” I started walking away, but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard Sato start screaming. Not the enraged bellowing that usually accompanied any attempt to undermine him, but screams of real agony.  
I turned to look at him, wondering to myself what the Hell was going on, when I noticed four glowing purple runes emblazoned across Sato’s chest: PAIN.  
Whoops. I hadn’t meant to cast a spell, but I’d been so irritated that I lost control of myself.  
One of the teachers that hadn’t been paying any attention to us students just seconds before, hurried over and quickly dispelled my weak rune. Although, come to think of it, it wasn’t exactly a rune. It was slightly different.  
Anyway, the teacher was furious. After dispelling my not-exactly-a-rune, he turned to me, red in the face. “Headmaster’s office. Now.”  
I slunk away to the headmaster’s office, reclaiming my lunch and my book on the way out of the commons area. Awaiting my fate on the bench just outside the door to the headmaster’s office, I heard the teacher discussing (rather angrily,) a topic in which my name seemed to come up quite often, until finally the headmaster called me in.  
I knew I was in trouble, big time. It was definitely against the rules to perform magic within the school grounds, but at least I had the excuse of acting in self-defense. Sato and his pals had no such excuse.  
The headmaster, a small but intimidating man, was sitting at his desk when I was ushered in by the secretary.  
“Have a seat, Mr. Justine.” He gestured at the chair opposite his desk, and I sat down slowly, feeling agitated and somewhat ashamed. I’d never been sent to the headmaster’s office ever before. I’d never broken any rules before.  
A long, awkward silence ensued, and I nervously began to twiddle my thumbs, unsure if the headmaster expected me to explain myself or to wait for him to speak first.  
After a lengthy, breathy sigh, the headmaster spoke. “I presume you know why you’ve been called here, Mr. Justine?”  
“I performed magic on the school grounds, sir.” I answered, terrified.  
“Yes, you did, though I don’t think I’m getting the full story. Why don’t you tell me everything that happened at lunchtime today?” He seemed more tired than angry with me. I still felt my face flush red with embarrassment, though. Somewhat irrationally, I did not wish to explain to the headmaster about my daily torment. However, I also knew that there was no point in keeping such information to myself.  
“Well, I was sitting in a secluded corner, as usual, when Sato and his friends came over to verbally abuse me. As they do every day, unfortunately.” I paused and grimaced slightly. The headmaster leaned forward in his chair, suddenly interested in my plight.  
“And what exactly did they say that was so abusive, Mr. Justine?”  
I looked at my feet for awhile as I scuffed the toe of my boot on the floor. “My hair.” I said finally. “The fact that I can cook well. My name, and various other aspects of my person, they call effeminate. It’s been going on for quite awhile.”  
“Ah. Go on.”  
No words of denial, no offer of support from the headmaster. I suppose I was slightly effeminate, but still. Somehow, the headmaster’s dismissal of my daily tortures was more insulting than anything that Sato and his gang had said. Still, though, I went on.  
“Then they began to drag me out of the commons area to psychologically torment me and physically humiliate me in ways that I do not care to explain, when I decided that I’d had enough of Sato’s rule-breaking. It is, after all, against the rules to harass other students, correct, headmaster?”  
“Yes, it is. But that’s not an excuse for the magic you unleashed upon Mr. Sato.” The headmaster leaned back in his chair. He seemed, oddly, more disinterested now that I’d come to my own lawless actions.   
“I pushed him away and began to walk away, though I did tell him, quite honestly, that he was a pain of a person. And I must have accidentally cast some runes on him, because I certainly did not mean to do so on purpose, much as I may have wanted to at one point. I was only trying to protect the rule, sir.”  
“I see. Well, Mr. Justine, even if Mr. Sato had been bullying you, it doesn’t lighten your crime. I believe that two week’s suspension is in order, effective immediately. You may wait outside of my office for your parent to come and retrieve you.”  
I stood stiffly and bowed, just as stiffly, to the headmaster and turned to walk out of the door.  
“Oh, one more thing, Mr. Justine!” the headmaster called out to me. I turned halfway, somewhat unwilling to listen to him any further. I felt almost as though he had sentenced me to death, rather than merely suspension.  
“Yes, sir?” I asked politely.  
“You ought to have a friend collect up all of your homework assignments during the two week period, in order to not fall behind in your studies.”  
A friend. “Sir, I seem to have a distinct lack of those, at least in this place.”  
“What, studies?” the headmaster asked. It was obvious from his jocular tone that he was trying to make some sort of joke, though it wasn’t remotely amusing.  
“No, sir. Friends.” I hurried out of the office before he could call me back and interview me more.  
Things did not get any better for me at school, and, when I returned from my two week suspension, I discovered that, aside from Sato being more than ready to give me a good beating for my temerity, there was a new student in my class.  
Her name was Lila Frobischer, she had shiny black hair that smelled like pomegranates, her eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, her laugh was the cutest thing I’d ever heard, and her smile the sweetest thing I ever saw.  
I was a little obsessive, I’ll admit.  
It was really too bad that I was so damn shy, otherwise I might never have gone to such lengths to get her to notice me.  
I was almost twelve, and I’d had a crush on Lila for several months: her presence made Sato’s daily torments seemingly worth bearing, if only because they made her look my way during lunchtimes.  
Only, she wasn’t ever looking at me.  
It was as though I wasn’t really there. Instead, she was always gazing directly at Sato, and he peacocked around for her, strutting and swaggering around so sickeningly that I nearly vomited. To Lila, I was a part of the background, and her wonderful blue eyes skipped over me.  
That in and of itself was so painful I even seriously contemplated suicide once or twice, but the thing that was worse was that Sato was still breaking the school rules. Two weeks of suspension hadn’t done a thing to him. It hadn’t changed him, hadn’t even made him reflect on the fact that I had the power to hurt him, and hurt him badly if we ever encountered each other off of school grounds.  
My real breaking point came in December, almost eight years ago now, when Sato was boasting proudly to his cronies after classes had ended.  
“That’s right, I got a girlfriend.” he was smirking, and it irked me to no end. How could any girl, I wondered, ever want a person like Sato for a boyfriend? My attention wavered from my book when Sato spoke up even louder. “Don’t think Freak Justine over there will ever get a girl-- they’d probably think he was just a girl like them. He sure does look like one, after all!”  
I scowled at that: Aside from my new nickname, Sato had nothing on me. Even at almost twelve, I knew I could get a girlfriend if I wasn’t so damn shy.  
Too bad I was, though.  
Sato jeered at my dark expression. “Aww, what’s the Freak going to do now? Read me to death?”  
I stood up from my chair and glared at him. My right eye was throbbing again, and I noticed that he seemed to have forgotten the incident from last month. That is, until he sneered unpleasantly.  
“You don’t dare break the rules again, Freak Justine. You’ll get expelled for sure.” He laughed, and strode over, grabbed my right wrist, and punched me in the face.   
I was still seeing stars when the girl walked in.  
“Gainor, what are you still doing here? I’ve been waiting outside for ages for you to walk me home!”  
“Oh, sorry. But hey, you wanna see me beat this loser up?”  
My vision cleared, and I saw who Sato’s girlfriend was. My guts and heart fell with a figuratively resounding clang: It was Lila. My Lila. How on earth did she end up with Sato?! This wasn’t right! She was supposed to love me, she wasn’t supposed to like the worst 12-year-old in Fiore!  
“Hey, stop looking at my girl like that!” Sato punched me in the face again, and this time his fist connected with my nose, from whence blood promptly rushed out: I wasn’t sure at the time, but I was fairly certain that he’d broken it. Which he had.  
I choked on the blood rushing down my throat, and very nearly collapsed, but Sato pulled me back up and punched my left eye.  
“You’re such a big wuss!” he taunted, then pulled a long, mocking face. “Oh, look at me,” he whined in a ridiculously high falsetto. It took me a second to realize that he was imitating me. “I’m poor little Freak Justine, can’t throw a punch to save my life. I’m so weak, A kitten could beat me senseless!”  
“Gainor, stop! This isn’t funny, and it’s against the rules!” Lila protested. I fought the urge to smile. Though she was dating him, Lila still had some sense left in her brain. I was glad.  
Sato, ignorant fool that he was, brushed off Lila’s urging. “Naw, I gotta finish this dork off. Don’t want him to think I’ve gone soft just ‘cause I got a girl, now, do I?”  
His cronies, glorified monkeys that they were, hooted in agreement. Sato grinned evilly, and pulled his right hand back for another punch--  
But my left hand stopped its path short.  
I felt oddly calm, despite the immense physical pain I was in. “Didn’t I tell you that harassing other students is against the school rules?” I asked, cool, calm murderous intent etched into my voice.  
I felt a strange sort of buzzing around my body, and saw purple runes flying around me, as though they had wills of their own: I had not commanded any to appear. My right eye was throbbing more now: rhythmically, it pulsated, until I could feel power spilling out of it.  
Sato’s cronies seemed to sense that power, too, because they scrambled out of the classroom as quickly as they could, although Lila had backed up against the chalkboard, quivering with fear at my change.  
And it really was a change: after a couple of moments, the buzzing I felt shifted into the sensation of hundreds of pins and needles bursting through each and every square centimetre of my skin, radiating from my right eye. My hair bristled, and I felt, for a moment, as though my head were on fire. Then huge, purple horns began to sprout amidst the mess that was now my hair. I grew in size, ripping the shirt of my school uniform to shreds, becoming taller, and my skin became covered in dark-- not exactly scales, but not exactly fur, either. I felt my teeth elongating into huge fangs, and I let loose a roar that seemed to make the entire building shake.  
One hit from my now monstrous fist was all it took to send Sato through the window, and he landed two stories below on the grass, twitching and whimpering like a beaten dog. Lila screamed, and I collapsed on the floor, losing consciousness as I did so.  
I awoke sometime later in my own bed, at home. Father was sitting at my desk, reading one of my books, and frowning.  
I grunted as I sat up, wincing and feeling my patched up nose, bruised cheek, and black eye. Father closed the book and looked at me sadly.  
“Freed, what have you done?”  
“What do you mean? And wait, why are you home? You should be at work now, shouldn’t you?” It was still light outside, and father should have been overseeing drills.  
“I am at work, Freed.”  
I was confused. “What do you mean?” I asked, scratching my head. Someone-- probably my mother-- had tied my hair back in a braid, and secured my loose bangs with a couple of barrettes. My father sighed.  
“You’ve been expelled from your school.” His tone was dull as he relayed the news. “Not only did you use magic on school property, but you also used one of the forbidden spells associated with Runes: a dark ecriture Darkness. You turned yourself into a demon.”  
“Is that what happened?” I felt bemused, as though this hadn’t really happened at all.  
“I’m not finished. You used your demonic transformation to forcefully punch a boy out of a second story window, and hurt him so badly that he is in the hospital in fairly critical condition. You terrified a girl so that she is so scared that she can’t stop crying with fear. You undid the transformation inexpertly, so now you are permanently marked. What do you have to say for yourself, Freed?”  
I hung my head. “I’m sorry, father. I didn’t mean to use magic. I just can’t control it sometimes, that’s all. I let my emotions carry me away. I deserved to be expelled.”  
My father sighed again. “Well, as you’re a minor, it can’t be helped: the council can’t really do anything to you, much as they might want to.”  
Seeing my sobered expression, father stood up and walked over to my bedside. “Here,” he said, picking up a handmirror from my desk and offering it to me. “Why don’t you see what it means to be marked?”  
I took the mirror cautiously and stared at my reflection, eyes wide with astonishment.  
My bright orange hair had turned a weird shade of green. I couldn’t believe it: was this some sort of joke? Had father put dye in my hair in order to scare me?  
“It’s real,” my father said, as though he knew what was going through my mind. “It’s real and don’t you ever forget it. You need to learn your runes properly, and don’t you ever use transformation runes like that again, do you hear me?”  
I jumped and cowered: my father’s tone, usually so mild and quiet, had risen in both volume and intensity. He was serious.  
His expression softened as he continued. “And don’t ever forget about what’s really important, Freed. Promise me that, okay?”  
I paused before nodding. “Okay.” I said.  
Only three months later, I left home to go join a mage guild, much to my family’s dismay. Father had wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become a rune knight, though I waved that ambition of his away with a reminder of what I’d done to Sato. The rune knights would never enlist me, not with my record.  
I didn’t really know what mage guild I ought to join: knowing only vague reputations from my father’s constant complaints about the uncouth mages, I had little idea of what guild would suit me best. I did consider joining Blue Pegasus for awhile, but after hearing that an ex-rune knight, Eve Tearm, was among their ranks, I quickly moved on.  
It was December when I came to Magnolia, and now I was very nearly thirteen. A year’s worth of studying had brought a new level of control to my magic, as well as to my emotions. I met Laxus Dreyar shortly after I had joined Fairy Tail, and it was because of me that he got that scar on his face. We were both marked. And I owed him my life. With a sort of glowing feeling in my chest that I hadn’t ever known before, I realized something important. I had a friend. Laxus had become my friend.


	4. The Thunder God

Part Four: Laxus, The Thunder God  
December, X784  
Damn, but those three were annoying. I wonder why I miss them so much. Freed, Bickslow, Evergreen... each of their names seem to resound in my heart, making me wonder if convincing them to stay in Fairy Tail was really the right decision.  
Then I scold myself for being selfish: of course it was the right decision. Freed had agreed, and Freed usually knew what was up. Although, knowing those three, they’re still probably waiting around for my exile to be lifted and me to return. Not sitting around, but just keeping busy until I came back. Yeah, that sounds about right.  
I turn onto my side, watching the flickering flames of the campfire crackle and fizz: somehow, it only serves to send me deeper into my state of nostalgia, remembering when I first met each of them...  
I met Freed first, out of all of them. Before I even got my scar. Actually, it was about seven years ago, sometime this month that he joined Fairy Tail. I can still remember my first thoughts about him: Skinny, skittish kid, weird green hair, strange sense of style. I mean, he was wearing a freaking knee-length coat, for crying out loud. Complete with elaborately knotted ascot. Not to mention his weird white boots. And his way too long--for a guy, at least-- hair. That was for some reason, green. I never really found out why that was, come to think of it. But beyond that, I didn’t really feel obliged to talk to him, after all, Freed’s arrival unfortunately coincided with Dad troubles.  
Dad never spent more time at the guild than he could manage, and every time Gramps saw him, they’d begin a shouting match that usually ended with a table or three smashed to pieces by Dad’s shikigami. How paper dolls could destroy anything was beyond me, but since it was Dad’s magic, and it worked for him, who was I to question it?  
Anyway, Dad troubles usually left me grouchy and leaning against one of the pillars of the guild, listening to my music and trying my best to tune out all of the noise that the little punks-- by which I mean Gray, Natsu, Erza, and Mirajane,-- made. Geez, but even I knew that the guild was going to be a mess in a few years, after those four grew up.  
I think the only reason I even spoke to Freed in the first place was that we had a common goal: to get out of that noisy guild hall!  
Well, we did reach for the same request at exactly the same time. I remember the staring contest we had, each trying to get the other to relinquish the request, neither one of us willing to give up.  
“Gimme the request, punk.” I ordered. Freed’s eyebrow arched as he regarded me, cold and calculating.  
“No.” He said flatly. “I saw it first.”  
That got everyone’s attention. Even Natsu and Gray stopped punching each other for a moment. No one had dared to refuse me something for a long time: not since I passed the S-class exam.  
We continued staring each other down until finally Gramps cleared his throat from behind us.  
“Laxus.” Aw crap, I remember thinking, that’s his warning tone.  
“Yeah, Gramps?” I asked, not daring to break the steely battle of wills that was currently unfolding.  
“Why don’t you two boys team up? That’s not a request that one person can complete on their own, even if you are an S-class mage, Laxus.”  
I glanced at the request, which now sported a few small tears from being pulled in two directions at once, and saw that Gramps was right. An extermination job was usually most effective when you were part of a team, but I had no desire to team up with any of my noisy guildmates.  
I looked again at the green-haired kid-- although I suppose he only looked about three years younger than me-- and conceded. From what I had observed, Freed was infinitely quieter than just about any of the other guild members, Natsu and Gray especially.  
“Fine, newbie.” I scowled. “Let’s get going already.”  
He scowled right back at me, but finally shrugged. “Fine. Don’t keep me waiting.”  
Lemme tell you, that really pissed me off. But with Gramps right there, waiting for me to get going, I had little choice but to go. After all, I told myself, it’s only one job. Then I’ll be rid of this punk.  
“Oh, Freed, wait a moment, would you? I have something I’d like to ask you. Laxus, you go on.” Gramps waved me off, and I sauntered out of the guild, feeling incredibly annoyed with it all. As I left, I could hear the sounds of temporarily paused fights resuming, and a particularly loud shout from Natsu to Gray:  
“What’d you say to me?! Huh?! Ya won’t get away with it this time, ya droopy-eyed bastard!”  
This was a particularly impressive shout, as I was easily able to hear it over one of my loudest tracks. I ignored it as best I could, and loitered around, waiting for Freed to hurry the hell up, though only because he still had the sheet of paper with the request on it.  
Eventually, the green-haired weirdo exited the guild, deftly dodging a flying beer mug on his way out. He looked at me with apparent annoyance for a second before abruptly turning away. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought I heard a noise that sounded something like  
“Tch,” come from him.  
“Got everything you need, punk?” I asked him, although I was hardly prepared either.  
“No. I need to go back to my apartment and retrieve my travel belongings. I notice that you seem to be lacking luggage, so why don’t we meet back here in fifteen minutes? Then we can decide how we’re getting to where we’re going.” All of this he said in relatively the same tone of voice: a sort of quiet, controlled hostility.  
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and headed for home to grab my traveling bag, something that I kept neatly packed at all times.  
Fourteen minutes later, I was back out in the front of the guild, waiting for damn Freed again. About ten seconds later, he strode around the corner, looking incredibly irritated.  
“About damn time!” I scowled at him, and I was about to complain some more, but his glare actually shut me up, which was practically a miracle in and of itself: since I’d become an S-class mage, I hadn’t thought there was anyone in the guild, barring Gramps and possibly my father, who could make me shut up like that.  
“Let’s head out.” he said quietly.  
“Yeah. Fine. Whatever.” I muttered. I barely noticed as we headed through the streets of Magnolia, but eventually I caught on that Freed was leading us towards the train station, and I stopped short.  
Damn kid was halfway down the street before he noticed I wasn’t following anymore.  
He turned around, still looking bad-tempered. “What is it?” he asked.  
I glared at him. “There’s no freaking way I’m going on a train.”  
He arched an eyebrow testily. “Unless you can think of a better mode of transportation, the train is the only way we can get where we’re going on time. So we’re taking the train.”  
I really didn’t want him to know my one weakness: bad enough that I was stuck doing a job with this weirdo, there was no way I was going to let him know that I got motion sickness.  
“I know, why don’t I travel there by lightning, and you can take the train?” I said desperately. At that point in time, I wasn’t actually very good at my lightning-travel, and could only do it over extremely short distances, as it really drained my magic power.  
“No.” Freed said flatly. “That’s against the orders I was given.”  
I have to admit, I was a bit surprised. Too surprised to say anything for a moment. Then I scowled. “Oh yeah? And what orders would those be?”  
He looked at me evenly, if a bit testily. “Master’s orders. He told me that we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be separated on this job.”  
I could hardly believe it. Was Gramps trying to kill me?!  
“Yeah, but we’re not on the job yet. We’re going to the job.” I tried to reason, but my reasoning fell on deaf ears.  
“I have my orders.” He said stiffly.  
I rolled my eyes. “So? No one has to know.”  
He glared at me then, even more irritatedly than he’d done outside the guild.  
“We’re taking the train.” he said, and I didn’t argue. I did wonder, however, what sort of magic he used: why his glare was so intimidating.  
It might have had something to do with the fact that his right eye had gone from green and white to purple and black. At least, I think it had. I couldn’t see it very well, as it was mostly hidden underneath his weirdly green bangs.  
“Fine, Freak Justine.” I muttered, actually quite pleased with coming up with such a clever insult.  
I didn’t think he heard me, but apparently, he did. Freed dropped his bag on the cobblestone road and stood completely still for a moment. Then, moving faster than even I could have thought, he whirled around and punched me in the stomach with more force than I would have thought possible from a small guy like him.  
I doubled over, more surprised than hurt, really, and saw these weird purple letters hovering around him as he seemed to grow horns and fangs. I have to admit, he looked pretty badass right then: he must have been really pissed at me.  
A moment later, he was turned away from me, muttering to himself and trying to force the horns back into his head with his new claws. “No. No. No. No. No.” He mumbled through his fangs. “I promised Father. This isn’t happening. This can’t happen. No matter how much I hate this jerk--”  
“Hey!” I protested loudly, though I knew it was true. I was a jerk.  
He glared at me. “Shut up, unless you want to die.” he told me, then went back to his mumbling. I didn’t doubt that he was serious, but I was kind of pissed off at him for punching me.   
So I punched him back.  
In the stomach.  
He coughed up blood.  
His claw raked its way down the right side of my face in a jagged pattern, and blood poured from my face.  
But he went back to normal: well, as normal as he could be, being him.  
“What the hell was that for?!” He demanded, examining the blood now on his hands and staining his clothes.  
“Just returning a favour.” I said, smirking, even though I could have screamed from the pain of my new scar. “You sort of piss me off.”  
“You piss me off, too.” He muttered, wiping some blood from his mouth, then, gathering as much dignity as he could, he picked up his bag, walking a bit bent over and holding his stomach uncomfortably.  
I followed, knowing that I’d lost the argument about the train, but I’d at least won the fight. I always did, after all.  
After a few steps, Freed paused and looked back at me, wincing at the sight of my face. “Sorry about your face.” he said. I shrugged nonchalantly, even though it hurt like the dickens.  
“I’ve had worse.” I lied. “Sorry for calling you names.”  
A few days later, when we got back to the guild, my scar still hadn’t quite stopped bleeding, but I’d been patched up pretty well by Freed and the lady who’d sent the request in the first place.  
“Laxus, you’re back. How was the--” Gramps started, but stopped short at the sight of me. “What the hell happened? I thought that was a simple monster repression job!”  
Freed froze, looking guilty, but I only shrugged. “‘S nothing, Gramps. I was a little careless, that’s all.”  
“Should I get Porlyusica? Is your eye all right?”  
I shrugged apathetically. “Eye’s fine.” I grunted, a bit embarrassed at the amount of attention Gramps was paying to me for once. It was weird: it made me feel like I was a kid again.  
I left him at the bar, worrying about me, and made a beeline for the pillar I usually leaned against, before changing my mind and sitting next to Freed instead.  
Evidently, my behaviour had shocked him into not reading his book, a first for him.  
“Why’d you lie?” he asked me in a low voice. I smirked.  
“What can I say? I didn’t want to lose face. No pun intended.” I grinned.  
“Yes, but...” He frowned. “The fact that I was the one who gave you that scar is surely information enough to warrant my expulsion from the guild.”  
I laughed, something I guess I hadn’t done for way too long, because everyone suddenly stopped whatever they were doing (for most of the younger kids, that “whatever” was fighting with each other,) and stared at me. I shut up immediately and glared at them until they went back to what they’d been doing, if a little halfheartedly.  
“Quit talkin’ like that, Freed. You’re the only decent person in this guild that’s around my age. Who else am I gonna hang out with?” I patted him on the back, nearly knocking him off of the bench. Geez was this kid delicate. It was hard to think that he could turn into a monster that might even be able to give me a run for my money.  
That was as close as I’d ever come to announcing that I wanted to be friends with someone, but I kind of ruined it by adding “And anyway, you owe me big, don’t you? First I save your sorry life on the job, then I leave out the convenient detail that it’s your fault that I’m going to have a scar across my face for the rest of my life when I’m talkin’ to Gramps. I’d like to hear how you’re gonna repay me for that.”  
I watched him sputter for awhile, then I laughed again, though more quietly this time, so that the entire guild wouldn’t be staring at me. “Tell ya what, kid, why don’t you help me on jobs for awhile?”  
“I do actually need money of my own.” he pointed out preemptively. I waved that away.  
“Fine then. Why don’t you be my bodyguard? I can’t fight every moron who tries--” my point was doubly proven by Natsu, who interrupted me by shouting his usual  
“FIGHT ME, LAXUS!!!” To which I rolled my eyes. My right eye really hurt.  
Freed laughed weakly, but nodded. “Fine. I could see why you might need a bodyguard.”  
“Great. You can start right now.” I jabbed a thumb in Natsu’s direction. “Get rid of that pest for awhile, will ya?”  
And then there was Bickslow. Man, he’s even stranger than Freed ever was. Just like with Freed, I still can picture Bickslow the way I first saw him almost perfectly: balanced precariously on a lamppost, his grubby sneakers and ragged pants marking him as a teenager down on his luck and most likely on his own for whatever reason, but his brand-new blue t-shirt seemed to contradict that image. His hair was sloppy and uneven: it looked like he’d cut it himself, though it had been dyed a dark blue. Or most of it anyway. He was also flanked by these creepy little floating dolls, whose names I still can’t ever remember. I’ve tried. I just can’t seem to remember them all: I always get at least one name wrong.  
Oh, and don’t get me started on his bizarre face tattoo. Geez is that thing creepy.  
Anyway, it was a few months after I’d met Freed, and after becoming my bodyguard, the kid had attached himself to me as though he were a limpet. I would have been annoyed with him if he wasn’t quieter than the rest of our guildmates ever were. And, I gotta admit, I liked the attention.  
But there Freed and I were, walking down the street. I think I was complaining loudly about something (probably Natsu) when this kid crowed something (very loudly) and leaped onto a lamppost.  
That, suffice it to say, was Bickslow.  
“Yo!” he shouted at us. “You’re Laxus, right?!” he pointed at me.  
Freed and I stared up at him for a moment, completely speechless. Then Freed, conscious of his role as my ‘bodyguard,’ stepped in.  
“And who are you?” he asked suspiciously.  
The teenager (Bickslow,) leaped down from the top of the lamppost, seeming oddly weightless as he landed neatly on his toes.  
“Name’s Bickslow.” Bickslow grinned, holding out his hand to Freed, who shook it apprehensively.  
“I’m Freed Justine. What do you want with Laxus?”  
“Oh, so that is Laxus Dreyar, then. Yo!” Pushing past Freed, Bickslow shook my hand exuberantly.  
“Yo! Yo!” his creepy little wooden dolls echoed.   
“Uh, yeah. So what is it?” I asked. I didn’t know quite what to make of this weird teenager who seemed to hero-worship me almost to the extent that Freed did. And I didn’t even know him.  
“Aw, not much. Just introducing myself to my new guild’s Number-One S-class mage.” he grinned.  
“Number one!” the dolls echoed excitedly.  
“You’re in Fairy Tail, then? You’re new, I guess.” I eyed the floating dolls apprehensively as I tugged my hand away from Bickslow’s death-grip of a handshake.  
“Where’s your guild mark?” Freed asked, still sounding suspicious.  
“And do we even want to know?” I muttered to myself.  
Bickslow grinned even wider before he stuck his tongue out.  
At first, I didn’t process what was happening, thinking that he was just being amazingly immature and rude, even for a teenage boy who was about a year younger than me.  
Then I saw his guild mark.  
“Oh.” Freed was the first to speak.  
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” I agreed.  
“That’s a very... unorthodox... place to put your guild mark, Bickslow.” Freed told him.  
“I would have said ‘weird.’” I confessed. Bickslow grinned even more widely.  
“I prefer the term ‘unusual.’ But you’re both right.” He said.  
“So what is it?” I asked, changing the topic quickly. Bickslow shrugged.  
“Eh. Mind if I hang out with you guys for awhile? It’s kind of really noisy in the guild. Why are there so many kids there? And why are they all fighting each other?”  
“Heh. Good question. Who knows.” I said, my approval of this new mage immediately rising with his words. “I was actually just saying to Freed...”  
And yeah, that’s how I met Bickslow. He didn’t even have to permanently scar me in order to be friends. But I have never, not once, tried to reason out his weirdness. I think it’s better just to accept him the way he is: really kind of twisted.  
As for Ever, she was the last of the Raijinnshuu to join Fairy Tail, and, well, I’m pretty sure she only joined because of the name. She sort of has this thing for fairies.  
It was a couple years after Freed and I had become friends with Bickslow, and just after Bickslow bought that damn mask of his. Freed always said it made him look even more creepy than he already did, and, privately, I agreed.   
It was the annual Hanami festival, and I was in a murderous sort of mood, seeing as how not too long ago, my dad had been expelled from the guild by Gramps. Despite my foul mood, however, Bickslow and Freed had somehow managed to convince me to attend the bingo tournament, and I’m glad they did: because otherwise I’d never have met Ever, I think.  
Bickslow was the first to notice her.  
“Hey, have either of you noticed that chick over there? I think she’s checking you out, Laxus.” he said, jerking his head vaguely in the direction of a cherry tree.  
“You’ll have to be more specific than a head jerk, Bickslow.” I said, concentrating on my bingo card.  
“Right behind that tree right there. She’s got brown hair and glasses.”  
“Doesn’t sound like my type.” I said vaguely, feeling quietly furious at Gramps as I missed yet another number.  
“She’s also got these really huge boobs.” Bickslow added smugly.  
Suddenly I was paying much more attention to him than the bingo game. “Which tree did you say, again?” Bickslow smirked, and Freed rolled his one visible eye, apparently fed up with our immaturity.  
“B-6!” Gramps called, and Freed jumped up excitedly.  
“Bingo!” he called loudly, waving his card like a trophy above his head.  
I looked at the cherry tree that Bickslow had pointed out, and saw that he was right: the girl hiding behind the tree, who had to be about Freed’s age, had light brown hair, glasses, and a pair of very nice breasts.  
The bingo tournament was nearly over by the time the mysterious girl approached us. Bickslow, who nudged me in warning: he hadn’t taken his eyes off of the girl since he’d noticed her. “Hey, she’s headed this way. Her soul’s not bad-lookin’ either. You play your cards right and...” he trailed off, but only because the girl had come within earshot and he knew that I knew what he was talking about.  
“Um...” she began nervously, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. I found myself realizing that it wasn’t just her chest that I found attractive as she fiddled nervously with her fingernails. Finally, she stuck a hand out to me awkwardly. “I’m Evergreen... I’m... I’m a mage, like you guys.” I looked at her blankly for a moment before it dawned on me that I should introduce myself.  
“I’m Laxus.” I said, smiling politely. Quickly, and I hope unobtrusively, I looked her up and down, and saw no guild mark. Also, her breasts looked even nicer up close. “You want to join Fairy Tail?”  
She went even redder then, and nodded, seeming unable to speak. I had to grin. “These are my friends, Freed and Bickslow.” I said, nodding to each of them in turn, and waited patiently as she shook hands with each of them. "Let's go talk to the old man, then. I'm sure he'll let you in. You seem nice."  
Not sure why I said that, but as I made my way over to find Gramps, (my anger becoming momentarily forgotten,) I had to admit to myself that it wasn’t a lie. Evergreen really did seem nice, and not in a bad way, either.  
Geez. What’s wrong with me? I wonder as I turn onto my back and look up at the stars above me, ignoring the dark scudding clouds at the edge of my vision.  
I can’t go back to Fairy Tail now. No matter how much I miss those three, I can’t. Putting the whole ‘I tried to forcibly take the guild over’ thing, I’m being eaten alive by guilt. I mean, I did use them. Freed, Bickslow, and Ever may have been willing, but that doesn’t change the fact that I used them.  
Friends aren’t meant to be used like that, and I have to admit that I was a monster. Especially to Freed: he tried to help me out of at least some of the trouble I was putting myself in, but I ignored him.  
I don’t think I can face them until I face myself for awhile.  
I’m sorry guys. I didn’t mean it.  
I’m a real bastard, ain’t I?


End file.
